Time and Punishment
by Pir8grl
Summary: A simple snatch and grab introduces the Legends to someone who just might be able to grant their dearest wish. It's that time of year again, isn't it? And who better to flip off Destiny than Lucifer?


Maze was intrigued by the tiny blonde at the bar. Initially, it was because the woman was, well…hot. By any standard. Then, she was impressed by the sheer volume the woman was imbibing. _**Then**_, some wanker got in the woman's face, and got a broken wrist for his trouble. (Said wanker was summarily ejected from the club. No meant no, after all.)

Fascinated, Maze sidled a bit closer. There was just something about this human…a tinge of darkness and blood that the demon found intoxicating. She grabbed a bottle of top shelf (Only shelf, really. This _**was**_ Lux, after all.) scotch and two fresh glasses. The blonde raised an eyebrow as Maze slid one of the glasses in front of her.

"On the house," she said, by way of introduction.

"And why's that?" the blonde inquired, eyes and voice completely clear, despite the better part of a bottle of scotch she'd already ingested.

Maze shrugged. "For your trouble. Anything and everything does happen in here, as long as it's consensual. Owner's got a thing about free will."

"Does he, now?" She finally accepted the glass and took a long sip, eyeing the bartender speculatively. "Sara Lance."

"Mazikeen."

* * *

"You know, Constantine, you're acting even weirder than usual," Ray remarked, as they searched the penthouse above the club.

"Look, mate, can we just get on with this? Let's just find the anachronism and get the hell out of here."

Mick spared a glance for the antiquities lining the walls. Even he knew old…_**really old**_…when he saw it. "Looks like just your kinda place."

"Well, it's not. And the owner is not the sort you want to cross. So can we _**please -"**_

"No, the owner is _**not**_ the sort you want to cross," a British-accented voice informed them pleasantly. "The owner is the sort who believes in punishing those who invade the privacy of his living quarters. And since I don't recall issuing you lot any invitations, that makes you the invaders, and me the one who gets to dole out some punishment."

* * *

The noise level in the club was enough to overpower the comms, if Sara was paying attention, which quite frankly, she wasn't. The others knew what day it was. They had her back. There were exactly three days out of the whole damn year that she permitted herself to just let go. This was one of them. Besides, this was a simple snatch and grab. Even the Legends couldn't screw it up. (She hoped.)

Maze almost found herself wishing that Linda was there. She wasn't good with …feelings. The super-hot human was finally beginning to show the effects of all that alcohol. At least, Maze assumed it was the alcohol. Time travel wasn't really a thing, right?

* * *

Maze and Sara staggered out of the elevator, arm in arm, hair and clothing a bit mussed. Sara had a smear of blood-red lipstick on her collar bone.

"Lucifer!" Maze called, "I found this human downstairs -"

Lucifer turned, one eyebrow elegantly raised. "What a coincidence. I found these humans upstairs," Lucifer replied, gesturing to his three 'guests.'

Sara pulled her arm free and straightened, trying to will herself sober. She'd had a lot of practice.

Maze shrugged. "You're the one who won't let me booby trap the elevator. Want me to toss them off the balcony?"

There was chorus of protest, silenced by a withering glance from Lucifer.

"Really, Maze. I'm a consultant to the LAPD. How would it look if a pile of bodies landed on the sidewalk outside my club?"

"Like any other Wednesday?"

Sara looked between the two of them and her wayward teammates, alcohol and yet another screw up threatening the beginnings of a legendary headache. "Um…actually…these three work for me."

Maze whirled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. A knife materialized in her hand.

Sara took a step back, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Look. Everything I said was true. I'm - _**we're**_ \- time travelers. Something in here…somewhere…is creating a time anachronism. We find the item, and we're on our way."

"Scout's honor," Ray added brightly.

Mick kicked him.

Maze glanced at the three of them. Her eyes narrowed, and she stalked over, stopping in front of Constantine, who suddenly seemed very interested in the carpet. Maze bent and sniffed at him. Suddenly, the knife was at his throat.

"Do you know who this is?" she hissed at Lucifer.

"He's part of my crew," Sara said clearly, her own knife in hand.

"He's a demon hunter!"

Ray grinned in a way of a man who suddenly has a secret to keep. "Um…ha…ha…a demon hunter?" He blinked his eyes, obviously trying (and failing miserably) to look innocent. "Come on! There's…uh…no such thing as demons!"

"Ray-mond…shut it will, you?"

"You have no idea who you're talking to, do you, human?" Maze replied.

"Look, maybe we can make a deal?" Sara suggested, rather desperately. "Trade you something for the anachronistic item? Or pay for it?"

Constantine shook his head wearily. "Sara…love…you don't want to do that."

Lucifer shot him a look, and some trick of the light or booze had Sara thinking his eyes flashed crimson for an instant.

"Deals are my stock in trade. Tell me, my dear," he said smoothly, "What is it that you most desire?"

Sara stared up at him, lost in his piercing gaze. Her mouth worked silently.

"Sara!"

"Blondie!" Mick barked warningly, vividly aware of just what day it was.

"To go back in time and save Snart from the Oculus," she finally said softly.

The room fell silent. Lucifer blinked. Sara shook herself slightly, as if waking.

"Dearie me. I must say, that's a new one."

"Also impossible," Maze snapped. "I like my deal better. I get the demon hunter, and -"

Lucifer held up a hand for silence. "Now, Maze. I asked the young lady a question. Tell me more. Who is Snart? And what exactly is an Oculus?"

Sara heaved a sigh. "The Oculus Wellspring was a device that some very bad people called Time Masters used to - to program history. Snart died destroying it. He died so everyone could have free will."

"Did he, now? How intriguing." Lucifer's eyes grew distant for a moment. "Your friend isn't in hell, I can tell you that much."

"How could you know something like that?" Ray scoffed.

Constantine winced. "Because he's the devil, mate. That's how."

"What? You mean really the devil? It's not just some shtick?" Ray demanded incredulously.

Lucifer sighed, then turned his devil face on the overly chipper scientist. "What do you think?"

The room fell eerily silent. Lucifer turned back to Sara, human visage firmly in place.

"I'm afraid Maze is correct, resurrection is Dad's thing, not mine."

"Lucifer -"

He held up a hand for silence, lost in thought. Then he looked up and grinned, just a touch manically. "You say you're time travelers. Why don't we all sit and have a few drinks and talk about that?"

"Lucifer, you can't!" Maze hissed.

"My dear Mazikeen, there is very little that I truly 'can't.' Or have you forgotten who I am?"

"Forgive me, _**my lord**_, but as you said, only your father can bring someone back from the dead."

Lucifer took a deep sip of his drink. "Ah, but it's not resurrection if he never dies in the first place, now is it? After all, these people are time travelers. We go back in time and save this Snart fellow before he dies."

Ray looked sadly at Mick and Sara, who were clearly struggling not to hope. "It's not that simple. Someone had to hold down the failsafe, in order for the Oculus to explode. If we go back and rescue Snart, the Time Masters win. And by extension, Vandal Savage wins. The Earth, and everyone on it, loses. There was no other way."

"Ah, now that's where you're wrong, mister -?"

"Doctor Palmer, actually. And, not to brag, but I'm rarely wrong."

"Yes, but don't you see? When this terribly tragic event occurred, you didn't have me." The grin was back.


End file.
